The Memoirs of Evangeline Bernard
by GreekMythFan7
Summary: AU of the Leroux novel. Will have some influence from the other adaptations but will try to stay faithful! Evangeline Bernard was there when the Chandelier fell, when the diva was kidnapped and fled, when the Comte died, but the question is what happened? Her son upon receiving a request from a friend has decided to release her memoirs as to finally let her story be known.
1. Chapter 1

To whom it may concern,

The events of which I am to account are not from my own memory, rather they are the accounts of my mother the late Evangeline Bernard. Our family was recently sent a request to release these accounts. As the request was from an old friend of mine and as she had expressed that she wanted her accounts to be known one day, I am happy to oblige. My name, my name is not important to this story, as they happen before I was born. Even the later ones I have only the faintest memory of. For the friend who has asked these accounts to be released to him, know that I have taken the liberty of altering some of them as to protect the innocence of my late mother and my family. However Gaston, know that I write this to you, in order to help you express the story you wish to present to the public. I begin the way you have expressed to me you wish to begin your tale…The Opera Ghost did exist.

Regards,

G.

Chapter 1-The Opera Ghost Did Truly Exist

The Opera Ghost did exist, not just as a figment of the imagination, as some may have you believe. No, he was a man, a man of ordinary flesh and blood, alive as you and me. While he was considered a horror to many, having wreaked havoc for years amongst the halls of the Palais Garnier, he was also many other things… A composer, a magician, an architect, one may have called him a genius, but to a select few, he was simply known as Erik.

I was one of those select few, originally handpicked to be the box keeper of his personal seat in Box 5. I was also in time, one of an even fewer group of people that Erik could call his friend. During the events that led to the rise and kidnapping of the Prima Dona Christine Daae, I was there. I was there when she fled Paris with her beloved Raoul, and I know what truly happened to the poor Comte Philippe de Chagny before his body was found on the shores of the lake beneath the opera house.

It all began when I was quite young, a girl just shy of 18. I remember it all as if it was just yesterday…the colors, the music, the grandeur, the emotions that would send even the most level headed of people spinning. I was living with my Grandparents at the time having moved from the country side to Paris after breaking off the engagement between myself and a family friend.

My grandfather, Gabriel Bernard, was one of the kindest people I ever knew. Something that many would find odd, given the hand he was given at his birth. When he was born, he was born with only half a face. The right-side of his face was graced by nearly raw flew, partly bald on that side, an elongated nostril, no eyebrow, different colored eye and a swollen lip. This misfortune had left him having to wear a mask that covered that side of his face topped off by a When he was born, he was born with only half a face. The right-side of his face was graced by nearly raw flew, partly bald on that side, an elongated nostril, no eyebrow, different colored eye and a swollen lip. This misfortune had left him having to wear a mask that covered that side of his face topped off by a wig. His parents though, always treated him like the gift that he was to them, their only child that had been born alive. Having inherited a large sum upon the death of his father he kept the family business running from afar, before passing it on to my own father who ran it until his untimely death when I was five.

One would assume that someone in his position he would have become harsh unkind, a monster to be feared by all. He may have turned that way had it not been for the gentle hands of my grandmother Marie, who met him when she was simply a maid in his father's house in his youth. She had accidently stumbled into my grandfather's private room while cleaning, while his mask was off. Grandfather likes to tell the story as though she jumped into his arms upon seeing him love at first sight, grandmother said that it was more of she was concerned for his health thinking her employer had been horrible injured. It was only later after the whole terrible incidents at the Opera were over did I happen to notice the similarities between their tale and the one I myself had seen.

Soon after I arrived in Paris, I began to work at the Opera in the costume department. An opportunity given to me by my Uncle and Godfather Richard Firmin, who was in the works of taking over as manager. It is during this time that my story begins.

**A/N: Hello Phantom Fans! Remember me? Yes I return like a phoenix out of the ashes! Now for many of you who may have read my completed POTO FF, 'THE PHANTOM' and are fans of its sequel (which is going to be updated….eventually) welcome back. For anyone new, welcome. I decided to try my hand on sort of an AU of my AU, one that I hope will follow the Leroux novel more than it does the musical. For the new comers don't worry, this story while sharing a similar backstory to my old ones does not require them to be followed. However the question comes up will this end like my other one? Tell me what you think with this first chapter/ prologue. As usual some chapters may be really short, but I am going for quality rather than quantity. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- The Story of The Ghost

When I first walked through the doors of the Opera House, I did not know how in that one moment my entire life would change. Some would say that fate had decided that it was my time then say evaluate that out how you can.

I had been working at the Garnier for only a few days when I first heard the story of the Phantom of the Opera. Apparently it was an unspoken tradition that whenever something mysterious happened, the ghost would be blamed for it and then rumors would fly around about him. While everyone gossiped I was silent, it was my first time even hearing about a ghost stalking the opera. What else was I to do?

"What about you Evangeline?" asked one of my coworkers, "What have you heard?"

I looked up from the costume I was sorting at the time, confused, "Heard about what?"

"The ghost, he has struck again!"

"The what?" I asked.

"The ghost." another of my coworkers explained, "Surely you have heard of him?"

I shook my head, "Sorry, I do not believe in ghosts."

"What do you mean? Who else could be behind what happens around here."

"I do not know, a careless stage hand, a moment lapse in one's memory," I shrugged, "But a ghost is not a very strong possibility."

"You tease, Evangeline, surely you must have felt his presence around here?"

"How many times do I have to say it before you get it through your heads?" I stated, "I do not believe in ghosts."

They laughed at me, "You just have not been here long enough."

"I doubt that makes a difference.'

As if it was a joke they continued to laugh, the coworker closest to me, a young women named Louisa, grabbed my hand and began to drag me away, "Come on."

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"To Joseph," she explained quickly, "He has actually seen the ghost! If anyone can make you believe Joseph."

"If you say so Louisa." I said humoring her.

Joseph Bouquet was one of the stage hands at the Opera House, he was mainly in charge of the fly system and the shifting of the scenes. For a few years now he had apparently been the prime expert in the subject of the Opera's local specter. By the time Louisa and I had reached him, the stage hand had already gathered an audience mostly consisting of the young members of the Corps de Ballet.

"Look who it is!" he cried out when we entered the room he was in, "Louisa who is your pretty new friend?"

I felt the eyes of all in the room land on me, "This is Evangeline Bernard, she just started in costumes," said Louisa

He bowed his head to me politely, "Welcome to our family mademoiselle, I take it you are here to hear the tale of our local specter?"

"Actually…" I began before being cut off by Louisa.

"She does not believe in ghosts"

There was a collective gasp amongst the ballerinas. Joseph Bouquet on the other hand laughed amused by the turn of events, "That certainly will not do. You need to believe in the ghost."

"Why?" I questioned.

"Because the ghost demands it, he will go out of his way to make sure those who don't do."

"Can you even prove that this ghost exists?"

"I can," nodded Joseph, "I have seen him with my own two eyes."

"If the ghost is a ghost how did you see him?"

"The ghost occasionally takes on a physical form," he explained.

"He is a skeleton in dress-clothes!" exclaimed one of the ballerinas.

I raised my eye brows as Joseph nodded, "I had a run in with him on the little staircase by the footlights, the one that leads to the cellars, that is his domain. He was extraordinarily thin his dress coat hangs upon a skeleton frame. His eyes are deep within his skull, you can barely even see the fixed pupils, and all you can see are two big black holes. The skin is stretched across the skull, it is a nasty shade of yellow and he has no nose. All the hair he has is three or four dark locks of hair on his forehead and behind his ears," He paused to let the image set in the minds, "I had only seen him for a second before he fled."

"Quite the imagination you have Monsieur." I stated calmly.

The mouths of the corps de ballet were all a chatter, no doubt talking about how I was doomed now that I have been so adamant in my disbelief about this specter. Bouquet however did not seem to be shaken by my statement, he just shrugged, before continuing to tell tales to the ballerinas. I turned to Louisa, "I should be getting home, I will see you tomorrow."

"Be careful on your way home." She replied.

As I left the room, the ballerina's screamed in fright. "I saw him! He is a dark figure in the rafters," one of them shrieked. I shook my head in disbelief, a ghost, how could people believe in such things.

I returned to the area where I had been working on the costumes to pick up my shawl. For some reason although I had only left the area for a few minutes the feel of the room felt off. It felt as though I was being watched. Wrapping my shawl around my shoulders I just shook my head, a stage hand must have been up in the rafters somewhere checking on the backdrops. Yes, that was it I decided, after all there is no such thing as ghosts…no matter how much people may try to convince me otherwise.

As I turned the corner out of the stage area, I found out the reason why I felt eyes staring at me. Or rather I walked into one of the reasons.

_**A/N: The start of Evangeline's days is the Opera House! Fun fact a few of these passages here are actually from the Leroux Novel (I do not own them) such as Bouquet's descript of our good old Phantom. As you will see later in this tale, Evangeline is actually quite suspicious but tries hard to suppress these feelings, it is why she is so adamant about it. Who do you think Evangeline walked into?**_


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